


Augmented fourths and choral boners

by fuzzyfying



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Andrew Lloyd Webber hate, Fluff, M/M, Singer!Stiles, boyband!Stiles, literally entirely fluff, musical!sterek, musicnerd!Derek, sportsfan!Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1561055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzzyfying/pseuds/fuzzyfying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has always had a thing for tenors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello friends! This fic is for people like me and the other author Jennie who have a love-hate relationship with slowbuild. There will be a chaptered story, but it will be interspersed with fluffy drabbles where Stiles and Derek are already in a relationship. We will be sure to state chapter type at the beginning of every chapter so you can skip the drabbles or just read the fluff. We're super excited to play around with these characters. Thanks for reading!

Derek loved everything about Stiles. He to map his freckles in his head before he went to sleep, especially during the summer, when the California sun would create new ones for Derek to find and treasure. He loved his mess of hair that Stiles had slowly, slowly let grow out.Derek loved the way Stiles would sometimes cuddle into him, and they'd just breathe together, sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. It was effortless, their relationship. Before, Derek’s interactions with people had always been calculated-- give a little, not too much, wait for something in return. Something that might never come. But Stiles had wasted no time, and given him everything, and for the first time, Derek had been willing to give him everything back. Stiles had saved Derek from a life of loneliness and mistrust and instead brought him into a world of holding hands and going out just for the hell of it, a world of brightness and feeling that hadn’t existed to him since his first full shift as a preteen. Stiles was Derek's saving grace. But there was nothing Derek loved more about Stiles than hearing him sing.

Stiles was objectively a good singer, Derek would know. He had a clean tone and when he auditioned for solos, he usually got them. When they were together though, Derek wasn't thinking about Stiles' flawless technique, and, even better, neither was Stiles. Sometimes he had a guitar, and sometimes he sang acapella, which Derek kind of preferred, because Stiles voice didn’t need anything extra. Instead of looking at his fingers and trying to remember chords, he could just look at Derek with a look so soft and simultaneously intense that he could help but melt a little on the inside. Sometimes Stiles would come home humming and it would turn into a full on serenade, and others, like today, he'd hop out of his jeep with a cute little smile on his face, like he had a secret he could only share with Derek. These were the days when he had learned or perfected a new song, one that he felt the need to share. The content and genre of these songs changed, some days bouncy top forty, others sappy love ballads that Derek would never admit to enjoying as much as he did, one time Stiles had even come home singing Disney.

And when he was feeling especially dorky and ironic, and maybe particularly fond, Stiles would sing him boyband songs. Stiles was the only one on the planet, besides Laura, who knew about his old teenage obsession with N*SYNC. And there was a reason no one knew-- when Laura had found out, she’d teased of him for weeks, and to this day she still brought it up sometimes. For some reason though, Derek never felt like Stiles was making fun of him. Stiles understood that there were some parts of Derek's past so dark and painful that they would have to remain hidden, so whatever light, happy things he could glean, he would grasp onto and keep forever. So today when Stiles started singing One Direction, while it was still cheesy enough to elicit a glare from Derek, it was not entirely unexpected, and not entirely unwelcome.

I can't be no superman, but for you I'll be super human  
I, I wanna save you, save you, save you tonight

Anyone else would laugh at the corny lyrics, because Stiles had gotten caught in the crossfire during last night’s encounter with some rogue hunters, and Derek had spent all night kissing his wounds and patching him up. To them though, it made sense. Derek had saved Stiles, in the literal sense. Now Stiles wanted to save him in return, but they both knew he already had.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the first chapter of the real story. I hope y'all like it!

“Boyd, remind me why I’m going to see a choir concert on a Friday night?” Derek was still bitter. He’d been invited to a party and he’d had to decline in favor of this shit. Actually, he probably would have declined anyway because Jackson was hosting, but on principle, he had the right to be pissed.

“Because Isaac’s in choir, and you wanted to support him.”

Derek frowned.

“Also, Isaac didn’t ask you to go, Erica did.”

Ah, well. That made more sense. The last time he’d said no to Erica, she’d hidden his lacrosse cleats and he’d had to wear his freshman year running shoes. For an entire week. To top it off, when he’d got them back, she’d left them out in the rain overnight and he had to wait another week for them to dry.

“So what exactly should I be expecting? Because, I swear to god, if I have to sit through anymore more Vivaldi I’m going to shoot myself.”

“Vivaldi had, like, one choral piece that anyone cared about Derek, that’s not going to happen.”

Ouch. Derek was sick of Baroque orchestral pieces, but Laura had played violin for nine years, so he’d developed a certain appreciation. But he couldn’t tell Boyd that-- it was okay for Boyd to know shit like that, but Derek? Derek was a closet music nerd. Everyone thought Boyd was a mysterious intellectual, but Derek was naturally withdrawn, even more so after the accident; the chances of anyone knowing about his secret love for music was basically zilch/nil/zero/negative500%. 

“Besides, that’s not what this choir is. The real school choir is trash-- this is a bunch of kids who get together and sing whatever the hell they want. Jazz, Broadway, Top 40...you know, kind of like Glee. Isaac said this concert was going to have more of a musical theatre focus.”

Oh no. Oh hell no. Of course, he’d never admit to it, but Derek absolutely loved musicals. But this was a group of highschool kids-- a group who called themselves a choir-- and that meant trouble. He’d prepared himself for Bach or Beethoven-- but high school kids and Broadway combined? Nothing in the world could have prepared him for that. He was already imagining the program in his head.

xxxxx

Derek’s imagined program turned out to be pretty damn accurate. There were lots of the expected solos: Wicked, Spring Awakening, and something from Phantom of the Opera. Derek couldn’t tell you which song from Phantom of the Opera, because to him they all sound like the same damn song. The first three were actually pretty good considering how overdone they were, but the Phantom song was a joke. Literally. Clearly someone in the choir hated Lloyd Webber as much as Derek did.

Not that he would ever admit he’d thought that hard about any of this.

Really, though, Derek had kind of gotten excited for the next song in the program. Derek loved Leonard Bernstein almost as much as he hated Claude-Michel Schönberg, and he’d always had a sort of hidden fantasy about playing the role of Tony. Some kid-- Derek thought he might have heard the name before from Isaac-- was going to sing “Something’s Coming”. That song was in his top ten most played on his Ipod for weeks after he’d downloaded it. But that wasn’t the only reason Derek was excited-- this kid, Stiles Stilinski, was either going to be amazing or terrible. There’s not really an alternative way to sing the song. Derek was geeking out, despite expecting terrible, but that just made him even more excited, because bashing other people’s singing was kind of his guilty pleasure. 

The issue is, Derek couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Derek knew he was in trouble the second Stiles walked out, because he’d always had a tendency to go soft on cute boys, and this one was a work of art. He walked on to the stage, all pale skin and long limbs, with the most devilishly charming smile Derek had ever seen in his life, with slightly quirked eyebrows, a splatter of delicious-looking freckles and showing just enough teeth to make a dentist swoon. The stage lights lit up his pretty brown eyes in a way that made Derek melt a little. Yeah, Derek was in trouble, but when the lights went down and he started singing, Derek was totally fucked.

The kid was nowhere near conventional Tony. His acting and characterization really left something to be desired. But if Derek just closed his eyes and listened, oh my god. 

Stiles had the cleanest tone Derek had hear in his life, and he took advantage of it. Derek usually liked a little more vibrato in West Side numbers, but this guy didn’t need it. Without ornamentation, without strenuous technique, his voice was fascinating to listen to. It made Derek reevaluate every Whitney ballad he’d ever belted in the shower. Everything thus far in the show paled in comparison to this kid’s voice.

Of course, knowing Derek;s luck, Boyd would catch him staring. At least it wasn’t Erica.

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he Derek?” Boyd smirked. “Are you drooling?”

Derek was not drooling. Nope. 

“Um, my mouth is kind of dry because, I, um, switched allergy medications.”

“Derek, you aren’t allergic to anything.”

Lie. Derek was definitely allergic to Boyd’s sass.

“Doesn’t Isaac know him?” In response to Derek’s question, Boyd just smirked even more.

“Yeah, he’s the lead of that boyband Jackson just got kicked out of. Stiles asked Isaac to take his spot.”

Fuck. A boyband? Was the world conspiring to roll all of Derek’s kinks into one little freckled package? Fortunately, Derek didn’t have much time to ponder this before the opening for Dream A Little Dream started to play and Derek was all ears. It wasn’t so much the song, more the rich tenor voice soloing. A voice that Derek kind of remembered. Goddamnit.

xxx  
Derek had planned on leaving immediately after the concert and congratulating Isaac via text message or something, but Boyd had made him say something in person, and Erica had made him talk to the Stiles kid. When Derek found them, they were talking to each other, and Isaac looked ecstatic. So as not to be rude, Derek waited out of sight for them to finish, until Isaac left, seemingly in search of Boyd and Erica.

(Or possibly in search of him, but Derek would find Isaac later.)

As Derek approached Stiles, he thought about how he should start the conversation. Boyd said he was in charge of most of the programming, so Derek had to decide whether to compliment his choice of songs, or his pretty voice, or his flawless physique. He decided the latter would probably be inappropriate for an introduction. Fortunately, Derek was saved the embarrassment of tripping over his words when Stiles spoke first.  
“Hey, are you Derek?” Stiles knew his name? Um, what?

“Yeah, how did you…?”

“Oh, Isaac just talks about you a lot. He thinks you’re some kind of music god.” 

“Oh, really?” Derek was going to have to have a word with Isaac about that. Whether a good word or a bad word, Derek had not yet decided. 

“Yeah, really.” Stiles grinned. “So, what did you think of the concert?”

Awesome. Familiar territory. Derek could totally talk about the concert.

“I thought the program was pretty great. I mean, when I saw Phantom on there, I got a little worried, but your treatment of it made up for the presence of Andrew Lloyd Webber.”

Stiles smirked. “Yeah, Greenberg was gonna cry if he didn’t get to sing it, so we let him, but we made some, ah, adjustments.”

Derek was torn between feeling bad for Greenberg and laughing because he seriously wanted to sing something from Phantom of the Opera.

“All your soloists were good too. Your interpretation of Tony was amazing-- I’d never heard anything quite like it.”

Stiles went from smirking to full out beaming. He smiled a lot, Derek noticed. “Really? I’m so glad you thought so. I knew it wasn’t traditional and I was super worried about like offending someone, especially since I’ve never been much of an actor, facial expressions aren’t really my thing, and Scott told me that without vibrato I sounded like I was twelve years old, but hearing that someone liked it is totally awesome, thank you so much!” 

Derek must have been making a face, because Stiles slowed down, blinked, and came to a stop, his grin turning sheepish.

“Sorry, I, um, kind of talk a lot.” Derek actually found it kind of endearing.

“No, it’s cool. You guys were great, I wish I had the confidence to get up on stage like that.”

Stiles gave him a thoughtful glance. “Well, with Jackson gone, we kind of need an extra dude. Would you want to maybe come to one of our rehearsals?” The thought actually terrified Derek, but…

“Yeah actually. My sister’s been trying to get me to work on ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ with her, and maybe if I start working with you, she’ll let me off the hook.

Stiles made a face. “Eew, I hate Les Mis.”

It had only been five minutes and Derek was already falling in love.


End file.
